


The Perks of the Job

by Veul_McLannon



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: (not by Vetinari), Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, attempted intoxication of clerks with lascivious intent, lascivious Vetinari however is here in Spades
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 06:40:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14731872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veul_McLannon/pseuds/Veul_McLannon
Summary: Rufus Drumknott is one of those persons on whom alcohol has no effect whatsoever. It makes political receptions somewhat interesting. A story in five stanzas.





	The Perks of the Job

**Author's Note:**

> Because I’m really proud of it, this is me telling you the first four sections are 100 words apiece! And the last is 200!! Almost without having to do much!!  
> Usual disclaimers regarding lack of ownership of anything on my part~

It was rather entertaining, mused Vetinari across the crowded reception hall from his clerk, how he reduced the most recalcitrant of bargainers to putty. The Ambassador from Genua had been _most_ opposed to a favourable agreement, but throw one Rufus Drumknott into the political cake-mix and everything sweetened up considerably. Perhaps not for Drumknott, though, he reflected as the ambassador wrapped a genial arm around him. Perhaps not for the Ambassador either, if they continued like this. Vetinari comforted himself by envisaging four different ways in which the Ambassador might die tragically, and approached the delegate from the Uberwald dwarfs.

***

The Ambassador couldn’t believe their luck. Here they were, expecting to do business with the ruler of the city, and instead they were passed off to an underling. A poor decision on Vetinari’s part, indeed. Such creatures bowed before the might of politics, feeble as grass. It didn’t hurt that he wasn’t bad to look at either. Well, what were free drinks _for_ , after all, if not to secure the best deal possible? In every sense. They topped up... Rufus, was that his name? His glass and suggested a toast to the future partnership. They pointedly didn’t specify _which_ one.

***

Three hours later, and Drumknott was beginning to feel bored (an extremely unusual state for the clerk). The Ambassador had matched him drink for drink, and was now staggering around like a fool (and to add insult to injury, a fool attached to his arm). There was a reason he never bothered with drinking events; after the first three times in his youth the lack of inhibitions evidenced became exceedingly tiresome. And he still had an assignation to complete. Well, at this rate, he would be acquiring the best deal Ankh-Morpork had seen to date. Vetinari had better appreciate this.

***

Drumknott collapsed into bed at a frankly ungodly hour and moaned at the other occupant, “You owe me a raise. That was interminable. How can one person’s hands be in five places at once?”

Vetinari chuckled lowly and said, “I’m sure we can arrange a suitable reward”; a proprietary arm snaked around Drumknott’s waist.

Drumknott snorted. “You’re insufferable.”

“Insatiable,” was the prompt return. “But can you blame me?”

At this point Drumknott had to kiss him just to get him to shut up. When Vetinari had drink in him, “minutely scrupulous” didn’t even begin to describe some of his antics.

***

“Good morning, Drumknott. I trust last night was a success?”

Drumknott’s impassive, clerkly expression cracked a little at the edges. “Well, _I_ certainly think so, sir; the Ambassador may have a different opinion, however.”

“Ah yes.” Vetinari’s mouth curled mirthlessly. “They must have rather a sore head by now. If they’re even conscious.”

“Really, sir? I didn’t notice anything especially potent.”

“Idiot,” said Vetinari to his teacup. “Imagine trying to get _my_ secretary drunk. I would be insulted, if it weren’t a terrible waste of energy.” He smiled up at his clerk. “I can certainly think of better things to do with it, Rufus.”

“Yes,” smirked Drumknott, “I’m sure you can. When is the next reception, by the way? Last night was... most enlightening.” His eyes flashed and the smirk threatened to become a grin.

“I’m gratified you enjoyed yourself,” sniffed Vetinari archly, turning to the jam on toast.

Drumknott perched on the edge of Vetinari’s desk and looked down fondly at the tyrant. “You’re _utterly_ insufferable,” he said, leaning over to give him the briefest of pecks on the cheek, before oiling off to begin another day’s work.

The Genuan trade agreement was on the top of the pile.

**Author's Note:**

> Vetinari would absolutely use Drumknott’s raw sex appeal to cinch trade deals... or else what’s the /point/ in having a gorgeous blonde secretary??  
> The use of they/them pronouns is part of my constant quest to make the Disc gayer, as well as allowing you, dear reader, to imagine them to your heart's content~  
> If you have time, I live for comments!! <3


End file.
